


all’s well that ends well to end up with you

by dancingpineapples



Category: SPY x FAMILY (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Drabble Collection, Drunken Confessions, Eden Academy (SPY x FAMILY), F/M, Fluff, Fluffbruary, Gen, Nightmares, anya scheming, multiple prompts, post operation strix, soft forger family, twilight is a soft boi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29147028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingpineapples/pseuds/dancingpineapples
Summary: overdramatic, yes, he is, but loid forger wouldn't trade his family for the world.(fluffbruary 2021 drabbles for whichever prompts i actually decide to write about)
Relationships: Anya Forger & Loid Forger | Twilight & Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess
Comments: 46
Kudos: 109





	1. day 1: parenting time

**Author's Note:**

> ayooo so im def not doing all 28 prompts (to try and stay sane), but i'm hoping to write for at least a few of them!!! will prob write a combination of canon, post canon/operation strix (like this one haha), and au's just to keep it ~spicy~ anyways ty blu, the operation strix server, and wise hq for making fluffbruary a thing! <3 so excited to contribute and consume all the fluff! also ty lovely reader for, well, reading this LOL. hope you enjoy <3

Parenting was hard. Loid Forger, formerly Twilight of WISE, thought Anya was a handful when she was younger. Nothing prepared him for the teenage years. There were the sassy remarks and the disagreements and the painful realization that she’d rather spend time with her friends or the Desmond boy than with her own parents. That stung (only a little bit, he pretended), and there was only so much Yor could say to soothe him. Somehow, she was taking this all so much better than him.  
  
“It’s just a part of growing up, Loid,” Yor told him, countless times, and she was right. The rational side of his brain knew that this was a natural step in a child’s life. At some point, Anya would also eventually move out, become an independent adult, maybe even start her own family, but it was startling how quickly that time came. After all, Anya had always been attached to his hip or clinging to his leg or trailing behind him, and now it seemed like he was the one being left behind.

The last few weeks Anya had been coming home later than usual, and whenever he tried to ask her about it, both her and Yor suddenly had a plethora of excuses on hand. Loid wasn’t dumb though. They were hiding something and as he got ready for bed one evening, he wondered briefly if he needed to take his spy equipment out of retirement. 

The next morning, as he read his newspaper, Anya came bounding out of her room, excitement visible on her face. It was almost a complete 180 from her mood the previous morning. 

“Good morning!” There was an almost sing-song quality to her voice, and it brought a smile to his face almost instantly. She has her backpack in hand, while trying to simultaneously put on her coat and shoes. 

“Good morning, Anya.” Before he could say anything else, she came over and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and then, like a whirlwind, she was halfway out the door.

“Becky is picking me up this morning, so I’m heading out now! I’ll see you later, have a good day!” She turned back around and waved. “Love you, Papa.”

Despite its difficulties, there were certain things about being a parent he loved.


	2. day 2: birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of a continuation from day 1, hope you enjoy! <3

Despite Loid’s near perfect memory, there was one date that eluded him. His birthday. There were no records, nothing to corroborate the exact date, outside of an estimated year. It never bothered him, that is, until Operation Strix. Both Anya and Yor clamored to know his birthday, and so while under pressure, he threw a date out at random. What he didn’t anticipate was for them to actually remember. Year after year, even after the mission, they celebrated his “birthday”, to an embarrassing amount of fanfare (he considered anything more than saying ‘happy birthday’ embarrassing). 

That day, as Loid opened the apartment door, exhausted from a long day of being an actual psychiatrist, all that was on his mind was dinner and a hot shower. The last thing on his mind was his birthday. Which was why he was alarmed when he stepped into the apartment to find Yor and Anya standing right by the door, with confetti and cheery smiles on their faces. 

He’d forgotten. Again.

“Happy birthday, Loid!”

“Happy birthday, Papa!”

He smiled back, albeit tiredly, “Thank you. You didn’t have to do anything-”

“Oh, we didn’t really do anything. Promise,” Yor replied.

That was reassuring, he hoped. After the surprise birthday party one year, in which he actually almost tore his hair out, Yor promised to dial it down and keep it simple. 

The night was, to her word, quiet. There was dinner from his favorite restaurant and unlike other birthdays past, where there was some sort of cake related disaster, there was a normal cake from the bakery down the street. This was shaping up to be a birthday he could actually enjoy. Loid almost felt relaxed, until-

“Okay, present time!” Anya announced, standing up suddenly. “I’ll be right back!” She left and went into her room, presumably to get whatever present she and Yor had picked out this year.

“You know you don’t have to get me anything,” he called after her, like he did every year. After all, old habits die hard. He was used to living a minimal lifestyle (a generous descriptor) while working at WISE. He had to be prepared to uproot himself at a moments notice, and anything more than the bare necessities was excessive in his eyes. Even now, Loid wasn’t fond of material belongings. How many gaudy ties and generically colored sweaters did one man need? According to his family, more than he thought. 

Which is why he was surprised when Anya came back with a wrapped box, the size of a moving box. She wore a smile the size of her face with excitement visibly radiating from her. It must have been infectious, as he looked over to see Yor looking just as cheerful. 

Anya dropped the box down in front of him, and it rested on the table with a gentle thud. “Thank you, Anya, Yor, really you didn’t have to-” he started.

“Just open it!” Anya was practically vibrating in place, and he can’t remember the last time he saw her this excited (at least in his presence). 

Loid peeled off the wrapping paper and pulled off the tape (he was fairly confident this box was actually just an old moving box). Before opening the box, he looked up to find both Yor and Anya watching him eagerly. He was curious now to see what exactly was inside that had them so anxious for him to see.

Inside were dozens upon dozens of Spy Wars volumes. Some looked vaguely familiar, others were brand new. It took him a moment to process, and before he can even say anything, Anya was already talking a mile a minute, “Remember when we moved, the movers lost our Spy Wars collection, and you seemed really upset.” He opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off immediately. “So, it took a lot of legwork, but Mama and I managed to find all the copies we had and finished our collection too! So now we can see if Bondman and Princess Honey end up together.”

She beamed, and his heart warmed at the thought of her and Yor spending all this time tracking down each and every volume. That explained Anya’s late days and the whispered conversations the two had shared. Really, this was more than he deserved. “Thank you, Anya, this was very thoughtful.”

“We can start rereading tomorrow!” she told him. “We have a lot of catch up on.”

He raised an eyebrow, wondering vaguely where this was coming from. “You still want to read comics with your father?”

“Of course!” she answered, almost scandalized. “Why wouldn’t I?”

(Scratch that,  _ this  _ was the best birthday present he’d ever received.)


	3. day 5: drunken confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's in canon i guess? idk i kind of yolo'd this, and yes i did create a new oc: the Underpaid Overworked WISE Analyst. anyways hope y'all enjoy uwu <3

“We cannot send him back like this.” Sylvia looked at Twilight, a look that was a cross between amusement and resignation on her face. 

In front of her was an extremely rare sight: a drunk Twilight. A side mission had gone partly wrong, and by the time he came back to headquarters, the drug he had accidentally been exposed to had kicked in, and a state resembling inebriation took over. They were lucky, she supposed, that he wasn’t a violent or overly emotional drunk. He was just… slower and his words slightly slurred. 

An analyst came up to her, clutching a stack of files to her chest, “But won’t it look bad, ma’am? If he doesn’t go back to his family tonight.”

“You’re right.” His handler sighed. “Oh, Twilight, what are we going to do with you?” She did like this new Twilight, even if she would never tell him that. It caught her off guard by how well he had taken to the role of family man, although maybe she should give him some credit for being WISE’s best agent. If she hadn’t known the truth, she would have called him admirable for being so devoted to his family. 

On that thought, however, Twilight had a mission to return to, one that was critical to world peace, so she ordered the analyst standing there (who incidentally did not get paid enough) to drive him back to the Forger family apartment. 

The silence in the car was palpable. Twilight seemed quite unbothered as he quietly looked out the window, similar to how a child would. Being in the same car and driving the master spy himself was certainly exciting on paper. In reality, not so much.

She broke the silence first. “Will you need help getting upstairs?”

He shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Do you have a cover?”

He shook his head again, and the girl wondered how he was the best spy in Westalis. “I’ll make something up.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, until she asked, “Is Operation Strix going well?”

“It is.”

She racked her brain for other questions. “How are your wife and child? Are they nice?”

“They’re great.” She continued driving, only half processing what he was saying, “I wouldn’t trade them for the world.” He paused. “I probably care more for them than I should.”

Her next question slipped out before she could stop herself, “Do you love them?”

She held her breath while he hesitated. Twilight nodded slowly. “I… I do. I do love them.” 

Her eyes widened. Even the seemingly impenetrable Twilight wasn’t completely stone cold. She’s left to ponder the veracity of his statement, before he speaks up.

“You can let me out right here. It’s only a few blocks, I’ll walk the rest of the day.” He gave her a brief smile, and she really cannot believe this is the same spy she met when she started at WISE. 

At his request, she pulled over and unlocked the car. “Have a good night!” she said, feigning cheeriness to mask her surprise. Were the higher ups sure Twilight hadn’t been exposed to a truth serum? She doesn’t have a medical degree, but maybe she would suggest they test the drug again. 

The next day, Twilight woke up with a raging headache and a note from Yor telling him to feel better and that she called the hospital to let them know he was taking a sick day. It was accompanied by a glass of water, a bottle of painkillers, and (what he assumed was) a note from Anya that resembled scribbles more than actual letters. He doesn’t reflect too much on the smile that formed on his face automatically. 

When he gets back to WISE headquarters, everyone (and he swears it’s not his imagination) is looking at him knowingly. He feels a bit discomfited, especially as his last post mission debrief was a blur in his mind. Did something happen after his last mission? All Handler explained was that he was exposed to an experimental drug, but the effects should have worn off by now, so he should be completely fine. As he passes by yet another group of staring agents, he can’t help but think there was more to that story.


	4. day 7: nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all idk the timeline for this?? canon but deeper into operation strix?? ?? whatever not my problem (even tho it is?????) anyway tysm for reading and hope you enjoy <3

“Mama! Papa!” 

Loid stirred in his sleep, awakened by Anya’s cries. 

“It’s your turn,” Yor mumbled groggily. “I already checked under the bed.” With that, she turned around and pulled the blanket closer. As he sat up, he was confident by the time he returned there would be none left for him.

Nonetheless, he got out of their bed, yawning. “I’m getting up, I’m getting up.” As of late, Anya had been experiencing recurring nightmares. For the last few weeks, he and Yor tried everything under the sun to convince her there was nothing to be scared of. Whatever she dreamed about must genuinely terrify her, he mused, as he walked down the hall. Anya refused to ever discuss the contents of the dream, and only called on the two of them for comfort, which they were, of course, happy to give. It was just… being woken up multiple times in the middle of night for several weeks didn’t bode well for either of them. 

Loid knocked on her door, before turning the door knob. “I’m coming in now, Anya.”

“Papa!” Anya was sitting up in her bed, clutching her blanket, a look of pure relief on her face when she finally saw him. 

“Another nightmare?” he asked. 

Anya nodded, lip quivering. “It was so scary, and you and Mama weren’t there-” The tears leaked from her eyes, and Loid came over and placed (what he hoped was) a comforting hand on the top of her head. 

This wasn’t his strongest suit, there was always the fear of doing or saying the wrong thing. Emotions, especially Anya’s emotions, never made the most sense to him. He really was lucky that Yor was much better at the softer side of parenting. But, for the sake of the mission, he had to least try.

They had already read her a bedtime story and tucked her in earlier in the evening, with promises that nothing could ever hurt her when they were around. Bond played guard dog in the corner of the room, and Yor had already checked under the bed. He racked his exhausted brain for other ways he could try to soothe her back to sleep. “How about…” Inspiration hit. “...I stay here until you fall asleep again?”

Her eyes lit up behind the tears, and while internally cringing at how small the bed was, he climbed in as she scooted over. Anya immediately clung to his side. 

Loid doesn’t remember when exactly he fell asleep, it must have been sometime after Anya’s breathing evened out and before the sun rose. He also doesn’t wake himself (or Anya) up either. It’s when Yor opens the door, giggling, that he wakes up in a daze. She hid her smile behind her hand, while she walked over, mug of tea in hand. In his sleep deprived state, he thinks that her laugh is the sweetest alarm he’s ever heard (sleep deprivation really is an effective torture method).

“Good morning! Did you sleep well?” There was an amused tone to her question, and he can’t help but to smile back.

He untangled himself from Anya and stretched, wincing slightly at hearing his joints crack (oh, the joys of aging). “Not really. But,” he looked down to find Anya still fast asleep, faint smile on her face. “Someone did at least.”


	5. day 10: cooking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> crow said baking counts as cooking so this is dedicated to the best birb!!! <3 also this neighbors au has been giving me brainrot for weeks now so this is basically 2 birds 1 stone .... jk jk (unless..... jk jk) anyways hope u enjoy <3

Yor Briar’s new apartment smelled like a bakery. That was through no effort of her own. She attributed that to her neighbor across the hall. They were the last two apartments at the end of the hall, and anyone who knew her would testify she was the furthest thing possible from a baker. Loid Forger, on the other hand, somehow turned the simplest of ingredients, like flour, sugar, and butter, into the most amazing baked goods.

She really was in awe of the man. Aside from his second to none baking skills, he was a doting father, a hardworking psychiatrist, and a kind neighbor. 

Her first taste of his kindness was the day she moved in. Yor finished unpacking most of her boxes, with the help of her younger brother, Yuri. After he left, she flitted about, organizing what she could, while she considered her options for dinner. Her thoughts were then interrupted by a series of gentle knocks. 

Confused, Yor approached the door and peeked through the peephole to find a very tall (very handsome) blonde man, accompanied by a small girl. She opened the door, plastering a hesitant smile on her face. “Hello, can I help you?”

The man in front of her blinked, as if caught off guard, before breaking into a warm smile, “I just wanted to introduce ourselves. We live across the hall-” he gestured vaguely in that direction, “-I’m Loid Forger, this is my daughter, Anya.”

Anya looked up at her. “Hello! Papa and I baked cookies for you!” She held out a plate topped with cookies, and Yor could admit they looked and smelled amazing. 

“Oh! Thank you, Anya! That’s so kind of you.” Her smile widened. “I’m Yor. It’s nice to meet you. The cookies look wonderful.”

“I just hope they’re edible,” Loid told her.

“I’m sure they are.” Wow. A man who could bake. And was seemingly good at it. “They really do look wonderful,” she assured him. 

The welcome cookies, as she called them, were only the beginning. Loid, it seemed, loved to bake and was constantly at her door with different treats for her, always claiming to have baked too much. 

He always caught her just as she returned home for the day. Whether it was another loaf of bread or a basket of muffins, Yor had almost come to expect it. Of course, to be polite, she would invite him in to have a cup of coffee (she learned early on he was a fanatical coffee drinker, something that didn’t surprise her in the least). She wasn’t sure what the appropriate descriptor for their relationship was. It had to be more than neighbors, but maybe not friends. And then there was the way his gaze would linger on her one second longer than necessary and the way the two of them blushed bright red when their hands accidentally brushed. Something about  _ that  _ didn’t seem neighborly or friendly. Regardless of her uncertainty about their relationship, she enjoyed his company and assumed he must feel the same. 

Which was why she ended up in her current position, sitting at the Forger family dining table, cup of tea in hand, watching Loid knead dough. 

He had invited her over that rainy Sunday morning, citing the desire for adult companionship. Anya had invited one of her school friends to sleep over, and Loid thought it might have been nice to surprise them with homemade cinnamon rolls, after the two had stayed up late watching movies (he really was the sweetest, she thought).

“Yor?”

“Yes?” She perked up, eager to be of assistance. 

“Do you mind bringing the butter over here?”

“Of course not!” She got up and handed him the softened butter. Yor watched as he spread it over the rolled out dough. “Have you always enjoyed baking?” she asked.

He nodded, while laser focused. “It was something my mother and I used to do. I thought Anya and I could do the same, but she’d rather just eat the end results than help.” 

Yor giggled, “I’m sure she’ll join you one day.”

“One day maybe. Can you sprinkle the cinnamon sugar on top as well?”

“Of course, just all over?”

“Right.”

As she sprinkled the cinnamon sugar mixture on top of the butter, she failed to realize how close they two of them had gotten. Loid was extremely aware, on the other hand, especially as she brushed up against him (completely innocently). He was extremely relieved when she finished and stepped back to watch him roll up the dough and cut out the individual rolls. 

It was a very domestic scene, she thought. After Loid put the baking dish into the oven, the two of them sat in comfortable silence at the dining table, him with his coffee and her with her tea. Cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla filled the air and the scent faintly reminded her of home.


	6. day 14: hand holding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i rlly almost deleted this bc of a certain someone but w/e i didnt even edit this properly lmfao im still- ksjghgs whatever ok bye happy valentines day btw

Anya liked holding both her parents’ hands for different reasons. 

Mama’s hand is callused and rough, but every touch is gentle and soft. She knew just how strong and powerful (and cool) her mama was, and despite her occasional trepidation, Anya liked holding her hand. There was something protective and safe about holding hands with her, and Anya liked knowing that hands designed for killing were also hands for brushing her hair and making her hot chocolate. Plus, Mama was always happy to hold her hand.

Papa is different. He usually wore gloves, but regardless, his hands were always cool to the touch. He rarely initiated any hand holding; Anya felt like she always had to reach for his hand first and then cling to it, scared he would let go. He does follow, though, when she leads him by hand wherever she wants to go. (she doesn’t notice it, but if she starts to loosen her grip, Loid will tighten his grip, subconsciously, unwilling to let go)

But, the one thing she really wanted was for her parents to hold hands. She knew Mama and Papa were… different from other parents and couples. She saw the contrast clear as day when she saw her classmates’ parents and, despite their ridiculous premises, Becky’s shows. Becky’s soaps showed a very different couple from the one she had as parents. She already knew her parents didn’t share a bedroom, didn’t kiss (oh, the reprimands she got when she asked if they were going to), and generally shied away from each other. 

It never bothered her, until Becky mentioned offhandedly that the couple had broken up and how she wasn’t even surprised, when “they never even held hands”. The terror on Anya’s face was evident, and she quickly made up an excuse when asked what’s wrong.

Mama and Papa cannot break up. If they broke up, they wouldn’t have to be her parents anymore, and if they weren’t her parents, there would be no more Forger family and where would that leave her? Anya would lose the first two people who indulged her and cuddled her and made her feel special and important. She would lose her first real home. 

Which was why she embarked on Operation: Make Mama and Papa Hold Hands (the name was still a work in progress). 

She doesn’t know how exactly to make them hold hands, after all, they’re both much bigger than her, and Anya knew if she just asked them, she would get scolded again. No, she has to be sneaky about it.

It hit her on their weekly family outing to the dog park. Anya held Mama’s hand, while Papa stood on her other side, one hand holding Bond’s leash, the other just resting at his side. She eyed his hand before turning and eyeing the one she was currently grasping. 

Breath bated, she grabbed his hand and smiled up at him innocently when he looked down. She sighed in relief when he returned her smile.  _ Good, he didn’t suspect anything. _ (anyone on the street passing by would have thought they make a very pretty picture of a family)

She waited until they had crossed the street before pulling both parents’ hands closer and effectively pushing them together before releasing her hold on them. They don’t notice right away, and Anya took that opportunity to duck underneath their poorly joined hands and cling to Bond. Her giggles were what gave her away.

Both parents looked down, then up at each other, while Anya peeked over her shoulder with a smug look on her face. They were both so confused, and yet they weren’t letting go, to her delight. 

At the same time, Loid has half a mind to let go and scold her, when Yor’s fingers hesitantly wrap around his. He looked over to find her face bright red, gaze fixed straight ahead.

“I don’t mind, Loid, it’s fine,” she said softly. “We are married, aren’t we?”

The park  _ was  _ only a block away, and he decided it was fine to hold on a little longer. This does not go unnoticed by Anya.


	7. day 16: unsaid things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long weekend over :( im sad so take this (jk jk this isnt sad at least i dont think so lol)

Loid Forger is a wonderful father and husband. Yor was glad to have married him. She told him this fact on an almost regular basis, and she liked the way the tips of his ears burned red and his eyes imperceptibly widened every time. It reminded her that just like she has her insecurities, so does Loid, despite his almost flawless performance as a father and husband. 

She liked the way he seamlessly managed their household, never once begrudging her for her domestic shortcomings. She liked the way he doted on Anya in his own way. There was a long list of things she appreciated about him, and she hoped he picked up on her admiration, interwoven in their normal day to day interactions. Maybe he picked up on it once or twice, when she smiled a little too widely at the sight of him reading Spy Wars with their daughter or when she blushed washing the dishes if he stepped half a foot closer than usual while helping her. 

Yor wished she could find the proper words to express herself, but she doesn’t know what these feelings are or how to articulate them to herself.

That night, Anya was at a sleepover at her friend Becky’s house, leaving her and Loid at a loss at what to do without their precocious daughter. He suggested they watch a Spy Wars special that was airing, while he recorded it for Anya (very thoughtful of him). 

Somehow, Spy Wars warranted a bottle of wine, and Yor later found herself leaning into the side of her husband, his arm loosely draped around her shoulder. It’s not an unwelcome position. She doesn’t even pay attention to the television, the look on Loid’s face just that much more captivating. The expression on his face was relaxed, a rare sight to behold, and at certain scenes, his lips turned upwards, laugh lines around his eyes faintly visible. As much as he said he was recording this solely for Anya, she knew deep down there was a part of him that wanted to watch a mindless TV special (with her, she hoped).

Yor didn’t realize it ended, until she heard him call her name. She blinked, only to find his face inches from her, bright blue eyes gazing into her own. 

“Are you all right, Yor?”

As usual, she can’t find the words. She nodded. 

“I can’t say I enjoyed that-” He was a bad liar sometimes. “But I’m sure Anya will.” He paused before asking. “Do you think she’s having fun?” His concern is obvious (and adorable). He hesitated in agreeing to let Anya sleep over and only conceded after extensive wheedling from both her and Anya and a personal phone call from Mr. Blackbell. 

“I’m sure she is. She and Becky are so close, and the Blackbells seem nice.”

They sit in silence, and Yor noted how comfortable it felt. The television was still on, but neither of them paid it any attention. Instead, she was acutely aware of just how close he was, how in sync their breathing was, despite how oddly intimate this was (for them), it also felt incredibly natural. 

She rests her head on his shoulder, and he doesn’t give her a second glance, but does subtly pull her closer. Maybe it was fine if some things went unsaid.


	8. day 18: first dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my humble offering to the queen of eden au (senpai) hope i did her proud <3 anyways u should def check out all her eden au / basically all her fics bc they are AMAZING ok bye hope u enjoy

Yor was upset with herself for attending the Eden Winter Ball. She normally skipped out on any non-mandatory school event, but Camilla and her other friends convinced her to at least make an appearance in their last year. She apparently couldn’t graduate without making these kinds of memories at least once. 

If those kinds of memories included crouching on a bench outside the building, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders, as she contemplated leaving without a word to any of her friends... well, that seemed like something she would have been fine missing out on. 

Yor knew she was awkward and out-of-place. Regardless of how fashionable her dress was or how much makeup Camilla applied, things like these, like school dances, weren’t meant for girls like her. She had made her peace with that long ago. She would have been fine at home with Yuri, reading one of those (weird) encyclopedia-esque books with him. It wasn’t too late yet, she  _ could _ still go home. But would the scolding and reprimands from her friends be worth it? She sighed, as she heard the sound of footsteps, crunching gently in the freshly fallen snow. Maybe someone else had the same idea as her-

“Yor?”

She looked up to find Loid Forger, fellow Eden student and maybe-friend (she wasn’t quite sure what to classify their relationship), approaching her. “Oh, Loid. Hello.” 

He stopped in front of her. “What are you doing out here?”

Yor frowned and tucked her head back into her knees. “I just needed some air.” Her voice was muffled, and she wasn’t sure if he had actually heard her. 

He did, as he went ahead and sat down next to her, “Are you feeling all right? I could take you to the infirmary.”

“I’m fine,” Yor sighed again. She had hoped to get some air (and maybe plot her escape), and now she had caused a fuss and worried him. She really couldn’t do anything right. She peeked over at him to find him gazing at her concernedly, and her heart (curiously) skipped a beat.  _ Change the subject, Yor,  _ she told herself. “Are you having a nice night?” She saw the way the underclassmen, especially that one girl, clamored for his attention, so it surprised her to see him outside and not dancing, with one of his many admirers. Not that Yor didn’t understand the appeal, after all, Loid was uncharacteristically thoughtful and kind (for a teenage boy) and well, even her oblivious self knew he was handsome (even when he was covered in bruises and scrapes from fighting, but that was opinion she kept to herself). 

“Not particularly.” 

At that, she looked up and turned to face him, this time concern written all over her face. “I’m...I’m sorry to hear that. What’s wrong?”

Unbeknownst to her, Loid was grateful for the dark sky obscuring the blush that erupted across his cheeks. He chose his answer carefully. “There’s a girl I wanted to dance with, but she was almost impossible to find, and I haven’t asked her to dance yet.” 

“You should just ask her to dance,” Yor replied, puzzled at his hesitance. 

“You think it’s that simple?” 

She nodded. 

“If you say so.” He stood up and then held out his hand to her. “Will you dance with me then, Yor?”

Her eyes widened, as she looked up into his, trying to discern if he was joking, only to find nothing of the sort. “You were talking about me?” she squeaked. 

Loid nodded. “I was hoping to dance with you first.” 

Yor can’t find the words to describe her emotions at that moment (surprise? embarrassment? delight?), but she found herself taking his hand and blushing at the way he smiled at her when she did. His hand was warm (hers must have been frozen) and despite his firm grip, it was gentle and the smallest bit uncertain. She squeezed his hand back in return, as he led her inside once again.  _ These _ were probably the memories Camilla was referring to, Yor thought, as Loid twirled her across the dance floor the rest of the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the scene right before this:  
> Camilla: oi, forger, are you gonna ask yor to dance or not?  
> loid: :O  
> Camilla: she’s probably outside *facepalm* aren’t you always like basically stalking her anyways-


	9. day 22: free for all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im OFFENDED THAT YALL THOUGHT I WAS GONNA COMMIT A HATE CRIME??? i rlly considered almost nuking this but it was already like 60% written cuz i’ve had this in my ‘au brainrot’ doc for a while. anyways i wanted to test the waters lol idk if this is ever really going to go anywhere but the teacher au was too cute to pass up for a free for all day

Anya Forger never knew her mother. She had passed away (gone to heaven, her papa told her) when she was a baby, and since then it was just her and Papa. Her papa was the best though. He was a good cook and he liked Spy Wars too. He got her a dog and took her to the park and bought her peanuts, the list went on and on about why he was the best. 

But he had his faults too. He worked a lot and put her in various after school programs and he made her study on the weekends and eat her vegetables. He didn’t like physical affection and hated playing spies with her and Bond. And then there was Miss Fiona, one of his coworkers who always tried to win her over. The woman was strange, and Anya didn’t like her. 

She hadn’t quite realized what it meant to have a mama until she saw her classmates with their mothers during a school Mother’s Day lunch (Papa got special permission to come instead). The difference between a mother and father seemed so apparent. She saw the way that they doted, and teased, and hugged, and she could only look up at her father and wonder _why didn’t she have that?_

He explained it to her again, patiently and gently as always, when they were back home, that her mother had gotten sick after she had been adopted and then went to heaven. She, of course, loved Anya and if she was here with them today, she would do everything a real mama would do. But she wasn’t, Anya thought, and there was no one to fill the void she left behind. 

That was until she met Miss Briar. 

First grade was a big deal. It was real school, no more playtime or nap time, and she had to get a big girl backpack, complete with school supplies like folders and notebooks (all Spy Wars themed, of course). Anya could take the bus by herself and she sat by the window, waving to Papa, who was smiling and waving back. He promised to pick her up and they could get ice cream after her first day. 

She knew her best friend from kindergarten, Becky Blackbell, had the same teacher, and the fact they were in the same classroom was a relief. What wasn’t a relief was Damian Desmond and his fan club also being in the same class (curse small private schools). After the first day of kindergarten incident (which she still thought she was in the right for), Papa asked her to _please_ keep her temper in check. At the time, she nodded solemnly and pinky promised.

Now, however, seeing the way he practically sauntered in their classroom, with a sneer on his face, she was itching to wipe that look off his face. His assigned seat was right next to her, and he opened his mouth to say something (something rude, probably) when he was interrupted by the bell.

Everyone’s attention was immediately drawn to the front of the room, where they found (what they assumed was) their new teacher. Miss Briar was new to Eden Academy, and she certainly looked it. She wore a cheery smile and her enthusiasm was overflowing as she introduced herself and set out some general classroom rules.

The day that followed after Miss Briar’s introduction was amazing (even Sy-on boy could admit that). She has thoughtful activities planned, and she won over everyone in the class by the first hour. Either Miss Briar truly was sent from heaven or their kindergarten teacher had been that terrible (but seeing her angelic smile, Anya is sure it’s the former).

Throughout the day, Anya decided Miss Briar met all the criteria to be a perfect mama (or rather, her perfect mama). 

She was kind and patient, as she let each student take as long as they needed to introduce themselves, especially if they were nervous or stammering. There was no air of judgment or annoyance around her as they sat through another stuttered introduction (though Anya couldn’t understand why some students were nervous, they all already knew each other).

Miss Briar complimented her Spy Wars folder, mentioning that her brother also enjoyed the show and made a point to ask Anya who her favorite character was (Bondman, _of course_ ). 

And then, better than the icing on a cake, before either Anya or Becky could respond to Damian’s usual harassment, Miss Briar overheard him and made him _apologize_ . And, _he did_. (though she’s not certain how genuine it was, it was still better than nothing)

All in all, Miss Briar became her new favorite teacher in the span of one school day, and Anya couldn’t wait to tell her father all about her and convince him that Miss Briar was perfect. 

That is if she ever got the chance to. School let out at two o’clock, and Anya waited with her classmates at the front doors. Becky already left; despite wanting to see Anya’s dad again, she was rushed away by her chauffeur. Anya waved, then sat down on the front steps, thinking about what ice cream flavor she would get and hoping he was on his way.

An hour later, Miss Briar found her outside, still waiting, then made her come inside to at least wait in the classroom.

It was past four o’clock when Miss Briar left to go call Papa’s work again. He was _late_. Anya bit her lip. She should have expected it, but at the same time, he had promised to pick her up. Anya continued doodling in her notebook, as Miss Briar reentered the room, a kind smile on her face as she approached her.

“I just got off the phone with your father’s receptionist. He had an appointment go over, but he should be on his way now.” She placed a comforting hand on Anya’s head. “Is there anyone else I can call?”

Anya shook her head. “It’s just me and Papa.”

Miss Briar took the seat next to her. “I see.” She paused. “What are you drawing?”

“It’s Bondman saving Princess Honey from the evil farmers,” she then launched into an in-depth description of the latest Spy Wars movie, and to her relief, Miss Briar listened attentively, nodding and asking questions for clarification. The two lost track of time, when suddenly the door swung open. Anya looked over to _finally_ see her beloved father (although right now he was on thin ice). 

“I am so sorry, Anya, I got caught up at the hospital-” he started, it was a familiar story and before Anya can say anything (another fake “It’s okay” on the tip of her tongue), Miss Briar cut them both off. 

“Mr. Forger, could I have a word with you? Outside?”

Papa was caught off guard, and Anya relished in the shock on his face. “Of course, Miss Briar.” He gave Anya another apologetic smile, and she watched as the two adults stepped outside the classroom. She wondered what exactly Miss Briar wanted to say.

Whatever she said must have been impactful, as when they returned, the look on Papa’s face looked like hers’ when he made her study on the weekend. Miss Briar was still all smiles. “I hope this doesn’t happen again, Mr. Forger.”

“It won’t.” He looked thoroughly chastised. “Thank you so much for staying with Anya.” 

”It’s my responsibility. And she’s the sweetest too.”

Anya beamed at her words of praise. Miss Briar really couldn’t get any better. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. “I know I promised you ice cream on our way back.”

“I’ve been ready to go, Papa.” She picked up her backpack and sweater, and just as she grabbed his hand, a brilliant idea hit her. She looked over her shoulder to find Miss Briar organizing papers on her desk. “Miss Briar, do you like ice cream?”

She looked up, “Of course I do, who doesn’t?”

At that, Anya gave her father a pointed look. “Papa, Miss Briar should join us. Because you made her stay late too.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine, I wouldn’t want to impose-” she stammered. 

“Miss Briar, you’re more than welcome to join us. Anya is right, consider it my apology.” 

“Please,” Anya pleaded. “Papa doesn’t even like ice cream. He’s no fun.” At that, Loid looked affronted, but she ignored him. 

Miss Briar looked down at her papers, before setting them down, resistance crumbling as Anya looked up at her. “Okay then. I’d love to join you.” She picked up her coat and purse and locked the door as they left the classroom. 

As the trio passed through the front doors, Anya watched in delight as the two adults made small talk, about the rapidly changing season, the new mayor, nothing very exciting, but it was a start. 

Papa was almost as stoic as ever, and Anya wondered if she should try something more dramatic, before he suddenly went, “Just Loid is fine, by the way.”

“Oh, well, then please call me Yor.” She gave him a shy smile, one that he returned in kind, and Anya doesn’t think she’s ever seen him look like this before. The smile on his face is markedly different (softer maybe is the word for it). Anya decided he needed Miss Briar in his life just as much as she did. 


	10. day 26: reencounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways so i really said fuck a continuous timeline huh. i guess this chapter is technically origins of the post operation strix domestic au from the beginning but why not make it the last prompt? also like sorry for the gratuitous angst blame the playlist :D

Anyone passing by wouldn’t have spared the dark-haired woman leaning against the building a second glance. Nor would anyone have looked twice at the man around the corner from her, cigarette (unlit) in hand. His coat collar obscured half his face, hiding his expression from the world (but mostly just from her).

“I’m glad you could make it.”

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Yor.” Twilight, formerly Loid Forger, has never spoken truer words.

“Right. Of course.” He doesn’t miss the bitter edge to her tone. He knows (or rather he hopes) it’s not directed towards him, but rather to their current circumstance. Even if that circumstance was all of his own making. It is inexcusable, to pretend to marry a woman and foist a child upon her and then disappear like he never existed. Twilight knows that, Yor knows that, and yet, she still maintained a cover for him, still raised their daughter, and still met him at this nondescript corner every year for the last six years. Just so he could continue having some semblance of peace, knowing his former wife and daughter were fine. The fact she continued to entertain this was just another painful reminder of how perfect Yor Briar-Forger was and how unattainable that kind of perfection was.

“How’s Anya?”

“She misses you,” he heard her say. Her voice wavered, as she tried to summarize the events of another twelve months he missed. “She’s taller now. Remember how little she used to be?” He did. “And her hair is so long too.” She sniffled. “But she misses her father.” From the faint rustling, he assumed she was wiping her stray tears (he wishes he could do that for her). “She’s doing well in school. She’s on student council.” Yor let out a weepy chuckle. “Surprisingly, she enjoys it. It suits her too.”

“I’m glad to hear that. And how are you?”

“I’m-” her voice cracked again. It frustrated him to no end. What he really wanted was to hold her. Or even just see her with his own two eyes and not through photographs. Listening to her voice from around a corner wasn’t enough. It was never enough to meet at the same corner, same date, same time, and pretend this was fine.“I’m fine.”

They reached a familiar part of the conversation. “I’m sorry, again, for putting you in this situation.” Twilight couldn’t count the number of times he’s apologized, pretending the words were capable of conveying the full spectrum of regret and shame he felt. 

Yor was as gracious as ever, accepting his apology easily. “It’s fine. I have Anya now. And you.”

They were silent as he checked his watch. Two minutes left before they would start to look suspicious. He racked his brain for anything, something to try and soothe her.

“Won’t you come back?”

“I’m sorry.”

She sighed, “I know, I know, world peace is on the line.”

“I have to leave soon.” This part of the conversation is the hardest, leaving, not knowing if he would make it to the next meeting (it does bring him a little comfort to know if he doesn’t, there would be someone to mourn  _ him _ , and not just the spy).

“Does world peace really depend on one man, though? You’re missing out on her entire life.” She paused.“And… I miss you too. This isn’t the same, and you know that. Please come home, Loid.”

Her pleading felt like an arrow straight to the chest. Old Twilight wouldn’t have given her words a second thought, but this new version of Twilight seriously considered her request, wondering if the repercussions would be worth it (they would be, for them). The word home also put a funny feeling in his chest. Home, to him, is anywhere with Yor and Anya, regardless of address or country.

But, his logical side yelled at him that spies don’t simply go home at the end of the day. Not when world peace hangs precariously, and the whisper of another devastating war is ever present. It hurt to think the two things he wanted most in the world are in direct opposition.

And yet, he can’t help but want to make it work.

“Stay safe, Loid. And just… just think about it. It doesn’t have to be right away.” With that, he heard the rustle of the newspaper as she folded it and the click of her heels as she walked away.

Leaning against the wall, he contemplated lighting the cigarette for real.

-

Despite the pain their meetings bring her, Yor still cherished the few minutes they exchange words. It does, however, put her in a mood for the week afterward. Anya, as astute as she is, always knows and is there with extra hugs and kind words.

The emotions she normally kept tucked away bubble at the surface, and she has to stop herself from snapping at the neighbors. They’re not shy about their gossiping (“Oh, the Forgers? Husband went overseas for work. He abandoned his family. Probably for good.”). Her only comfort is that she knew the truth of the matter, and she clung to that, perhaps desperately. 

After spending her morning moping over her tea and toast, Yor only watched as Anya (now taller and older) got ready for her trip to the dog park with Bond and Becky. She had asked if Yor wanted to join them, but Yor turned her down, claiming the growing laundry pile as a reason to stay home. Now, she sat on the sofa, folding laundry, television playing in the background.

It was a beautiful spring day, and the windows were open, letting the breeze air out the apartment (and maybe some of her emotions). As she thought about what to make for dinner, she was surprised to hear the sound of a key in the doorknob. It was only a little past noon, and Anya had only just left. Yor got up, leaving the sheets abandoned, to find the door swing open, revealing a face she committed to memory (the black eye is new though, and she’s sure there’s a story behind  _ that _ ).

“I’m back.”

She decided to commit this to memory as well. The weary smile contrasting with the almost unbridled joy in his eyes, the way he hesitated stepping into their apartment, as if unsure if he still belonged (he did).

Yor smiled, and it was like the weight of the world was off her shoulders. She felt almost triumphant as she says, “Welcome home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think we all know who gave twinklight the black eye (cough cough miss handler) anyways tysm for sticking with me as I wrote some funny, fluffy, and chaotic drabbles for the month of fluffbruary!! i had a lot of fun writing and reading and see all the awesome fanart too <3 sxf brainrot 5ever am I right


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